


where have all the flower

by gasmsinc



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Age Difference, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Animal Transformation, First Time, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Spit As Lube
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-09 07:20:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17997401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gasmsinc/pseuds/gasmsinc
Summary: Jonathan should eat the child, because that is the way of things when humans leave their children amongst the trees, but he is a father before he is a Wolf, and he cannot bring himself to swallow the child whole.aka the one where patrick is raised amongst wolves





	where have all the flower

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know man, I guess I'm going to write self-indulgent werewolf fic for the rest of my life.

It’s a moonless night when Jonathan finds the child, its face dirty and naked as the day it was born, shivering in the cold as it stares at him. The child is human, a bad omen on any night, but even more ominous on an moonless one, abandoned by in its own mother to die. The child sniffles, wide blue eyes wet from tears, shaking from cold and fear. He should eat the child, because that is the way of things when humans leave their children amongst the trees, but he is a father before he is a Wolf, and he cannot bring himself to swallow the child whole.

He licks the pup’s face, and when the child does not flinch from him, but clings to his snout instead, fearless, he makes up his mind. Human children are bad omens, but he has never been one for superstition.

 _Come_ , he whispers, and the child follows obediently behind, waddling over fallen tree branches, little fingers grasping at the bushiness of his tail for balance. The child is young, far from any sort of independence, but old enough to have been weaned. He babbles in a language that Jonathan does not understand as they walk, but language is something that can be learnt and taught, and the child will learn the language of Wolves as easily as he has learnt the language of humans.

Brent is not happy to see the child, his jowls pulled back in a growl before they even make the clearing, but Jonathan ignores his displeasure to lead the pup into the den, nudging it forward to where the pack’s pups are curled around each other in sleep. They will keep the human warm.

 _You bring a human here?_ Brent demands, but the anger in his voice is low; he is gentle and kind, his heart soft, and that is why the others leave him to guard the pups while they go on the hunt. This human will not be the pack’s first orphan, or their last, but he is the first human they’ve allowed into their den.

 _He is ours_ , Jonathan says as he settles around the pups, sniffing at Ad and Clell before he checks the others. They smell honey and sweet, milk on their breath from where they’ve recently nursed. Ad and Clell’s mother died in childbirth, but the other she-wolves have taken over nursing the pups. Jonathan is grateful.

He uses one big paw to force the human child to settle. The child resists, crying until exhaustion and the warmth of his body forces the child to sleep.

Brent stands, watching, until he cannot resist coming forward, sniffing at the human child until he sneezes at the smell. _Have you named it?_

 _Patrick_ , Jonathan says, and that is that.

 

 

\- - -

 

 

It does not take much to convince the rest of the pack that Patrick should not be eaten. He is boney except for his swollen belly, a common occurrence in both pups and human children, and will not make for a good meal. He can be taught the ways of Wolves, and a human raised amongst them is one less child that will grow up to hunt them.

It is begrudging acceptance of Patrick that allows him to stay, but acceptance nonetheless. He will be raised alongside Jonathan’s two sons, and he will learn to howl and walk silently through the trees, and although he will never learn to hunt like a Wolf or be a warrior, those tiny fingers of his will learn to make fire. He will learn and he will adapt, because he will have no other choice.

Above all, Jonathan is the Alpha, and his decision is final.

It does not take long for Patrick to learn, because what he lacks in size and brute force, he makes up for in smarts. One moment he is very small, and then the next he is big, growing like a weed but not fast enough. He is a human, and grows slower than Ad and Clell, and even slower than Dayna’s newest pup. Where the pups grow and achieve milestones in months, Patrick achieves milestones in years. Humans are fragile and weak, useless, needless, creatures, and this is something Jonathan did not fully realize until he had to raise one.

Patrick cannot keep up on the Hunt, not even when he grows older and stronger, standing tall and proud on his two, skinny legs, but he does learn how to scare the deer and elk in the right direction towards his siblings, and where he has no sharp teeth or claws to tear the animals apart to feed, he does have slim fingers that are nimble enough to make tools to tear meat from bone, and he learns from the Chanelings how to make fire.

He is a useless Wolf, but he learns to adapt, and he learns how to hunt rabbits and mice in his own way, with arrows and snares, and he learns how to strip the animals of their pelt to make clothes to keep him warm, and shoes to cover his feet, and needles to mend. He even learns how to sew a particularly nasty wound back together, and how to wrap it in the leftovers of animal skins to save off infection.

He earns his keep, and for all his faults as a human, Patrick is loved and protected, the weakest member of the pack, but still a member nonetheless. He is small and frail and feeble for a Wolf, but that frailness works in his favor, making him submissive and obedient, settling quickly at the bottom of the pack order. He is an omega for all intents and purposes, the only one amongst them, and he has grown into a sweet thing who shows his neck in submission without being told, who waits his turn to eat, and who still nuzzles under Jonathan’s neck for affection.

He is a good pup, nothing like the humans who left him to his death all those years ago, and his home will always be here amongst them because Jonathan will not allow the boy to be returned to the humans who will poison his sweet disposition, not even when the honeyed smell of pup starts to leave him. Patrick is growing, and soon he will be a young man and no longer a pup.

He will soon start to have the inklings to mate and start a family of his own, and even though there are those amongst them who have mastered the Shift and can take on humanlike appearances, none will be mated to Patrick. Pups made of both human and Wolf are weak.

But for all of Patrick’s sweetness, he is all stubbornness too, and he will not be sent away easily, even if Jonathan were to abandon him near a human village. He would come back because this is the only home that he has ever known.

Patrick is destined to spend his life alone, mate-less and childless.

For the first time in his life, Jonathan regrets not eating the boy when he had the chance.

 

 

\- - -

 

 

Another two years pass before the honeyed smell of pup finally leaves Patrick for good. He begins to grow facial hair, but learns to use a sharpened rock to shave the hair off before it grows in fully. He is still small for a Wolf, but his shoulders are broad for a man, and he no longer carries the musk of the pack, but his own distinct smell.

While the other pups’ attitudes and tempers start to change as they battle for their place in the pack order, Patrick’s sweet nature still remains. He knows his place without having to fight for it, and he is content to stay there. Being the only omega amongst them is a nice place to be, for he will always be protected and kept guarded. Eating last is a small price to pay for the amount of love that he is showered with.

Jonathan only begins to worry for him again when Ad finds his Mate and Clell begins the long process of courtship. Ad and Clell are not that much older than Patrick, but they are Wolves, and where it took Patrick years to grow, the boys sprung up like weeds in a matter of months. By the time Patrick was speaking fully and not tumbling over his own two feet, his brothers were hunting and twice the size of him.

 _He is human_ , Brent reminds him every day, his initial displeasure over the human long gone. He is proud, and protective, and more understanding of Patrick’s faults than Jonathan is. _He will be strong when the time comes_.

Patrick never speaks of jealously, or displeasure at being human, or his impending fate as a childless, mate-less omega. Perhaps he does not know that that is what he is destined for, or maybe he does not care. There are many Wolves who never mate or bare children, but where Patrick is pitied for his incompleteness, the Wolves are not.

“I am happy,” he insists when Jonathan broaches the subject, no jump in his heartbeat to indicate that he is lying. “I do not think I would like humans much, anyway.”

 _You are human_ , Jonathan wants to say, but Patrick is reminded of this every day as he climbs onto Clell’s back to travel up the mountain, his human feet not made for such a climb. He would not like _other_ humans is what he means to say, because all he knows of them are their cruelty. He was abandoned by his human mother, and his nimble fingers have treated many wounds caused by humans on both Wolf and animal alike. He would not get along well with his own kind.

“Would you send me from you?” Patrick asks, pausing from where he’s fastening an arrowhead to a stick. There is restlessness and fear in the air. Jonathan can hear his heart hammering uncertainly in his chest. “Have I displeased you?”

He has always been soft on the boy, overly fond and gentle. He has never raised his voice at Patrick, and has never had to growl or snap his teeth in warning twice for Patrick to learn a lesson. Patrick has always been _good_ , and there is nothing he can do that would displease Jonathan.

He bumps his head against Patrick, causing the boy to sprawl onto his back, arrowhead lost in the dirt. Just his head is the size of Patrick’s torso, so it is easy to keep the boy down, not that Patrick would resist. He goes pliant under Jonathan, head tilted up and to the side to reveal his throat, instinctively submissive. Jonathan suspects that even if Patrick hadn’t been raised amongst Wolves, he would still bow easily.

Humans do not like men like Patrick.

Even if he were to gain the ire of Jonathan and warrant being sent from him, Jonathan would not be able to do it. Returning to the human world would mean certain death for Patrick.

Jonathan lays down, settling all the weight of his head on Patrick’s chest. “I’m _busy_ ,” Patrick insists, but makes no move to try and dislodge him. If only the boy had been born a Wolf. He would have presented as an actual omega, or a very low status beta, but no matter what, he would have made a good Mate.

Patrick’s fingers slip into his fur, playing with Jonathan’s ears as if Jonathan were some sort of pet, but Jonathan allows it, because this is the only way that Patrick can show his affection. His ears cannot move, and he has no tail to tuck between his legs, so he must show his affection in the only way that he can; with his hands and sometimes with his mouth when he covers them with kisses, or licks at their muzzles. He cannot speak with his body the way that Wolves can, but no one can say that he does not try.

“I am happy here,” Patrick repeats after the time has stretched out lazy between them. Patrick has work that needs to be done, and Jonathan must gather the pack to lead the hunt for tonight, but he cannot be bothered to move. Brent will find him when it is time to hunt. “I would not know what to do if you were to send me from you.”

Jonathan lifts his head. The weight of it must be hurting Patrick’s chest by now, but he is good and does not complain because he trusts Jonathan, and believes that anything that Jonathan does is for his own good. He does not hesitate when Jonathan tells him to do anything, obedient to a fault because he knows that his innate obedience will save his life. A Wolf can hear the subtle siding of rocks, the low lumbering of bears—when a Wolf tells Patrick to stay, not to move, to _hide_ , he listens.

 _You are ours_. Jonathan stands, turning Patrick’s head to the side with his muzzle. He licks at Patrick’s throat, right over a scent gland, covering Patrick in his scent. He smells heavily of Brent and Dayna, indicating that he’s spent a majority of his day with them; he absorbs the scents of the pack into his skin easily.

Patrick sighs a breath of relief, sitting up to nuzzle his face under Jonathan’s chin, whining the best he can as he wraps his arms around his neck, squeezing, a mixture of both human and Wolf affection. He turns his head, licking Jonathan’s muzzle, showing his submission and love all in one go.

Jonathan lets Patrick nuzzle at him until Brent calls them for the hunt.

 

 

\- - -

 

 

For another year Patrick is a happy, content thing, sweet as the day Jonathan found him, happy to be the last to get to the meat after the feast, to sleep curled up at the bottom of the pup pile at night, and then, one day, that sweetness seems to drain from him, replaced with an obnoxious sort of stubbornness and unrestrained energy. He does not like to be touched, or to participate in the hunt unless he feels in the mood for it.

The pack is not used to this change in behavior, in this resistance to commands and his overall disobedience, and at first they react in shock, unsure of what to do at their omega acting so different, but that shock soon turns into annoyance. Patrick cannot be bitten like an unruly pup, but he can be snapped at and held down, but not even that seems to calm his new disposition. The pack soon becomes worried that their sweet human has fallen ill with some sort of strange, human sickness, but Jonathan recognizes this change in behavior for what it actually is.

Patrick cannot experience a heat, or even a rut, but that does not stop him from experiencing the surge of hormones that all younglings go through, Wolf or human. Patrick’s body has slowly been changing, transforming from a pup to a young man, and his body is riddled with an onslaught of new emotions. Where Ad and Clell have already gone through their first ruts, their younger brother is finally starting to go through his own version of it. There is no telling how long Patrick’s rut will last, but as soon as it is over, Jonathan is sure that Patrick will settle back into a more mature, perhaps even sweeter, version of himself.

Coupling would help Patrick get through his rut faster, and as much as Jonathan does not wish to expose the boy to humans, he knows that there is a village nearby, _probably_ the village he originally came from, and there might by a young woman willing to entertain him. Perhaps, even, Patrick might sire some pups of his own, and find something inkling to a Mate.

Jonathan waits for a day where Patrick seems close enough to his old self to lead him as close to the village as he dares to go. He is not afraid of humans because he can crush them in his jaws, but he is frightened of what they might do to Patrick if they see them together. They would throw stones at him, proving how cruel they actually are.

Patrick’s eyes are wide when he spots the smoke coming from the village. “I know that I have been mean,” he says, which is an understatement for the way that he has been for the past few weeks, “but I do not— _please_ do not send me away!”

Jonathan uses his head to nudge the boy forward. _You are not being sent away_. _Find a mate and mount them_.

Patrick shakes his head, digging his heels into the dirt. “I will not go down there!”

Jonathan nudges him forward again. _You will do as you are told_.

Patrick turns around swiftly, wrapping his arms tight around Jonathan’s head, acting like a spoilt pup having a tantrum. Jonathan could easily shake his head and send the boy flying, but he holds still, despite his irritation. _There are women in the village_.

“I do not like girls!”

Jonathan has always suspected this. A boy so sweet and docile, submissive from the day he was born, would never be able to mount a woman or a man. He is an omega, after all. _There are men—_

“I do not like humans!”

Jonathan means to shake his head and dislodge Patrick to put an end to this nonsense, but Patrick is holding onto his head too tight. _What do you want?_

Patrick is quiet, except for a sniffle from time to time. “I do not know,” he eventually admits. “I want only to stay with you.”

 _I will eat you_ , Jonathan threatens, but Patrick ignores him to wipe his snot in the space between his eyes. He’s learnt over the years that Jonathan’s threats are meaningless; he will never be able to cause Patrick any harm, even when he is being unruly.

Jonathan pulls his head from Patrick’s now weakened grasp, licking his face to clear away the tears. _You are a man now, stop your tears_.

“I am too tired to walk,” Patrick insists like an insufferable pup as he wipes away his tears. He digs his fingers into Jonathan’s fur without gaining permission first, pulling himself up onto his back. He settles easily, even though he has not ridden on Jonathan’s back since he was a child.

Jonathan does not believe that Patrick is too tired to walk, but this is the sweetest he has been in days, and he does not argue, only begins their long journey home.

It is silent between them for a long while as Jonathan moves, Patrick’s tears ceased. “Will you tell the others that I do not want to mount women?”

 _You are an omega_.

Patrick grunts. “I am not a Wolf.”

 _You are ours_.

Patrick might not be a Wolf in body, but he is a Wolf in spirit, and they have always known that he was different, and they have loved him and will continue to love him, because he is theirs. They are not a pack that abandons one of their own over such trivial things. _I will not tell your secrets_.

“I do not feel shame.”

 _You are ours_ , Jonathan repeats, having no other words to convey that there is nothing for Patrick to feel shame over. He is beloved in ways that others are not.

Patrick goes quiet, but it does not last long. He is always making noise, one way or another. When Jonathan must find him he does not follow his nose for Patrick’s scent, but follows his ears instead. “You have not mounted anyone since you brought me home.”

That is not true. He has mounted plenty of she-wolves, and even the odd human woman and man in his Shifted form, but he has not sired any new pups that he has claimed since Ad and Clell. He has done his duties as Alpha by siring two strong sons, and although he is sure that he has sired more, he only wishes to claim Ad and Clell, and that is the way of things. Patrick thinks that because he has no other known siblings that Jonathan has not been coupling. _I have mounted plenty_.

“But you have no Mate.”

 _I do not_.

“Why?”

Jonathan grunts, feeling irritation at the onslaught of questions, but at least Patrick is not crying, or being outwardly stubborn and mean today.

 _I do not want one_.

“But you wish for me to?”

Jonathan stops in his tracks. He tips forward, head to the ground, shoulders coming up and forcing Patrick to slide forward, off and over his head to stumble onto his feet. It is easy to tip him over while he is fumbling, trapping the boy easily under one big paw. For the first time in weeks Patrick does not fight his submission, just tips his head up and to the side, exposing his neck. _You are in rut_ , Jonathan explains, sniffing at Patrick’s neck, smelling the mixture of hormones there. _Mounting will help calm you_.

“I do not wish to mount girls,” Patrick insists.

 _You wish to be mounted by a man_.

Patrick nods, not meeting Jonathan’s eye, but that could be more from submission than it is shame. “The Shifters will not mount me.”

It is instinct that keeps the Shifters from mounting Patrick. Despite how sweet he is, he cannot carry a child, making him undesirable, and most Wolves do not mount just for the joy of it. With Patrick refusing to enter the human village, there is little chance that he will ever be mounted.

As tempting as it is to keep Patrick unmounted, sweet in a way that can never be changed, Jonathan knows that it is not fair.

He pulls away from Patrick, allowing the boy to get up, but for once the boy stays on his back, waiting to be told what to do.

Jonathan has never Shifted in front of Patrick before, so the shock on his face is warranted, but it easies as Jonathan settles into his human form. He rolls his shoulders, feeling weak in his knees for a moment until his senses come back to him, as sharp as they are as a Wolf.

Patrick’s thighs spread easy for him, already smelling of sweet arousal. His body is young, reacting to any touch. “You will mount me?”

“Yes,” Jonathan answers, feeling the ache in his jaw, not used to using his mouth to speak in this way. Already Patrick is growing hard under the thin strip of animal skin he wears around his waist to protect his genitals from the elements. He is so easy already, so sweet. Mounting him will not be a hardship.

Jonathan attaches his mouth to Patrick’s neck, finally able to use his teeth to bite marks into Patrick’s skin, covering his neck with saliva and scent. Patrick gasps under him, unused to the sensation, trying to curl his shoulder into his neck to dislodge Jonathan, but a simple grow, even weakened in Jonathan’s human form, makes him still. Jonathan will do what he wants, short of actually hurting Patrick.

“ _Please_ ,” Patrick says, which is a word that Jonathan did not know that he knew, since everything in his life has been given to him so easily. _Spoilt_ is the best word to describe the boy.

Jonathan pulls away, satisfied with his work. He takes Patrick by the hip, turning him over onto his stomach. Patrick will not make his own slick to ease Jonathan’s way, and he knows from experience that on his stomach will be an easier position for Patrick. Patrick pushes up onto his hands and knees instinctively, the animal skin sliding down his back to expose him. Jonathan kisses the swell of his ass, proud of this sweet thing, _his_ sweet thing.

He spits on Patrick’s hole before wetting his finger, using it to smear his spit over his rim. Patrick breathes heavily, but one sniff of the air lets Jonathan know that he is not afraid, but excitedly anxious, waiting patiently. He has nothing but trust in Jonathan.

“Be still,” Jonathan says as he pushes his finger in, feeling Patrick clench up tight at the intrusion. Patrick whines, digging his fingers into the dirt. Jonathan spits around his finger, using the extra saliva to pull his finger out and then push it back in. “The pain will pass.”

“Okay,” Patrick says, tears in the corner of his eyes, always one to cry at any discomfort, but the tears soon disappear as the pain gives way to pleasure. He gasps when Jonathan’s finger hooks, finding a sweet spot inside of him that has Patrick rolling his hips, trying to get Jonathan’s finger deeper.

Jonathan grins, dragging his finger out to spit on Patrick’s hole once more, this time returning with two fingers. Patrick starts his whine of displeasure again, but it gives way to pleasure, and soon enough he is rolling his hips, mouth open wide as he rolls his hips back, begging Jonathan silently for more.

Jonathan opens his mouth wide to catch the pheromones in the air, cock achingly hard. Patrick has always been sweet, but he never imagined that Patrick would be _this_ sweet.

Jonathan pulls his fingers free, wiping them on the back of Patrick’s thigh. He spits into his hand, taking his own cock in hand to wet it, before he once again spits on Patrick’s hole where his rim is red and stretched open. “This will hurt,” he says because he has never sugarcoated things from Patrick. “But you will get through it.”

Patrick only answers by nodding, spreading his legs wider for better purchase.

“You are _mine_ ,” Jonathan reassures, guiding his cock to Patrick’s hole, holding his hip in one in hand as he sinks in, forcing Patrick to stay still. Patrick cries out a the intrusion, trying to struggle, but even in this form Jonathan is bigger, stronger. He holds Patrick easily until he’s all the way to the hilt, draping his body over the boy as if he were mounting a bitch in heat.

He gives Patrick only a moment to adjust to the feeling before he starts to hump at his ass, pulling out slowly and then working his way back in, loosening Patrick up with each thrust. It takes a steady determination not to just shove his cock in and take what he wants, well aware that Patrick is only human and easily breakable, but soon enough Patrick’s cries of pain give way to breathy moans, his mouth open, covered in dirt from where he’s nearly drooling, cock leaking heavy between his thighs.

“Good boy,” Jonathan says, increasing the pace of his thrusts, the sound of his balls slapping against Patrick’s ass vibrating throughout the trees. The pack can probably hear them, can probably smell that Jonathan is mounting their sweet, sweet, omega, and they will accept this fact because it has always been known that Patrick belonged to him. The Shifters won’t mount Patrick out of instinct, but mostly out of fear.

“ _Please_ ,” Patrick manages to moan, shifting, trying to get Jonathan deeper inside of him. “ _Please_.”

Jonathan fucks into Patrick as safely as he can, well aware that he can bruise him, break him, hurt him and make Patrick fear him, and that is not what Jonathan wants. He reaches around Patrick, grasping his cock and pumping. Patrick cries out, rolling his hips back into Jonathan’s thrusts and then forward into his hand, a rhythm that seems to take too much out of him because he comes with a shout, clenching tight around Jonathan’s cock until his knees can’t take it and give out.

Jonathan collapses on top of him, humping at Patrick, ignoring the pitiful, oversensitive noises that he makes until his orgasm sneaks up on him, shoving his cock in and keeping it there as his knot forms. Patrick whimpers, and Jonathan licks at his throat, biting gently as a distraction until Patrick’s heart rate slows, his breathing coming out easily.

He is tired, and he falls asleep on Jonathan’s knot, sweet as can be. Jonathan allows him to sleep, pulling out when his knot recedes. He lies on his back, listening to Patrick breathe before he Shifts, returning to his normal state, immediately feeling better in his skin. He licks at the boy, cleaning him gently until Patrick is roused from sleep.

He is drowsy, confused almost, but he knows Jonathan and knows that he is safe, and Jonathan does not expect his hormones to be gone, for him to be the sweet Patrick of earlier years because he is still quite young and his rut will not disappear so quickly, but he does nuzzle under Jonathan’s throat and lick his muzzle.

 _Come_ , Jonathan whispers like the first time they met when he’s had enough, and Patrick follows obediently behind, stepping easily over fallen tree branches, nimble fingers grasping at the bushiness of his tail for balance.

**Author's Note:**

> *Please note that although Jonathan's pups are referred to as Patrick's siblings, Jonathan does not view Patrick in any form as his child.


End file.
